Bloody Elven Lands
by Vomyr
Summary: My first story. Vomyr, a bitter human paladin, leads a human regiment aiding the elves in the Warsong Gulch. He hates the lands and everything in it and unfortunately for him, it will only get worse.


**Bloody Elven Lands...**

It was raining. Great. After all those years of avoiding these wretched lands, it had to lead to this. No real surprise really, for he hadn't really lived by the book. But this was harsh. This was something you did to punish a rapist. _I never raped anyone, did I?_ His mind played tricks on him. He didn't really know much about the evenings before the mornings. The mornings he woke up, with nothing but a terrible headache and a scarred body, that usually told the story about the last evening. Mornings like most mornings actually. And the only solutions for the horrible feel of guilt and anger afterwards, always resulted into another one of those mornings. But never, never did he do something that could made him a bad person. That could make him the person who would deserve this fate.

It didn't really matter anymore though; His time had come. And there was nothing he could do about it. Perhaps it was better to make the best out of it. Frowning, he closed his eyes, and raised his head to the sky. The water of the rain tasted sweet and a smile appeared on his face. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all... maybe this was the moment he could embrace... No. His forehead started to hurt. _Fecking cold_. His smile dissapeared and replaced itself for a very annoyed face. _Fecking nature, fecking trees, fecking elves_. With narrowed eyes, he tried to glare his surroundings to death. He failed. Not even the soldiers around him seemed to notice his cry for attention. They were used to it. Besides, they were all way to busy with prevending their plate greaves from getting stuck in the moisy forest ground. Noticing the speed of the boots sinking into the mud, he closed his eyes again and slowly moved his vision downwards, using his chest to rest his chin on. A carefull attempt to move his right foot confirmed his expectations. Sighing he opened his eyes. No more greaves. Just mud. That explained why the soldiers of these regiment were taller than him.

Owh. Now he noticed the snickering elves who were pointing at him. Elves... He glared. Death to the elven regiment. He hated them. Arrogant treehuggers, children of a deer, thats what they were. _No way I'm keeping those alive._ Not like they needed his help though. Behind the elves in plate, lured the elves in robes. The 'healers'. Using the powers of 'Elune'. The deerwh0re. He snarled at the thought of it. _Holy powers my ass!_ But then again, these Blood Elves were using the Holy light too. Not worth his attention. This world was too confusing for a simple human like him to understand. The elves had their eternal life, they had the time to think about it all, the time to come with answers. And look what became of them. He sighed again. He recognized one of the elven priestesses. Zetox. She was staring at her own hand, not even paying attention to the world around her, just like all the other elves. He stared at her hand. On one of the fingers rested a ring, a ring he could recognize out of many. It was his. The ring that contained his soul, his heart. She accepted it that day, even though she was aware of his conditions. Drunk. Maybe even more drunk than he usually was. He gave away the one thing he treasured. The one thing he kept pure, uncorrupted. And he gave it to THAT. An elven shadow priestess, giving her all the power to control him. ...Alcohol destroyed his everything, except for his life. Holy powers were a true gift for an alcoholic. He grinned at that thought, taking his eyes away from the Night elves.

Cursing he pulled his greaves out of the greasy ground, which was desperately trying to suck his precious greaves back in. After cracking his neck, he placed his helmet on his head again. He forced his stiff body to turn around, making him face the men of his regiment of today. The men didn't appeared that calm. Newbie's. He always got the newbie's. He didn't mind though, since this always confirmed the battle he was about to face could only be a routine job. Slay some lumberjacks probably. Hopeless orcs, trying to make a living. Oh well, so was he. Trying to make a living. That's the world he lived in. In the beginning, he always prepared a speech, one that filled the younglings with the battle spirit, with fury and strength. But he stopped doing that, since he failed to see the reason after a while. _Why are we fighting anyway?_ Sighing once again he took a deep breath and started his speech:  
"So... here we are mates, fighting side by side with those elves. I know, I know, not what you expected of it, eh? Don't worry, it'll get better after this." He lied. Of course he did. The only way not to lie was telling them they were better of staying home helping their father with his fields. No pay check for Vomyr there then, so he lied.  
"Have no fear, soldiers. The only thing hiding behind these trees is a bunch of hopeless orcs, not death. We'll run in, face some resistance of the grunts, slay them with ease and have a beer at the camp afterwards. That's it. Now, pretend you're enjoying yourself. I don't want to look like a fool against those elves..."  
The men in the regiment grinned, their condition appearing way more relaxed than before already.

Vomyr overlooked his men once more. Twelve soldiers. Younglings. No heroes among them. He sighed once more, as he did many times today already. If it could only be like the old days again. When he was standing there. Next to his friends, his brother... heroes. But those times passed. Many of them were sent trough the Dark Portal. But more of them were no more. He glared. Sometimes he felt like he was the only one left in this hell, waiting for his time to come. The men were peering at his helmet searchingly, trying to catch a glimpse of his expression. He quickly turned around. Those bloody hordes were getting it. That was the only thing they were good for; getting rid of frustrations. _No mercy today, my green friends. No booze for your pay checks tonight._

The elven regiment leader finished his elfish mumbo-jumbo speech too and turned around, facing the forest. Well, at least he looked confident... Vomyr grinned again. He waited for the elf to turn himself to him, giving him a nod. The elf picked up his horn and blew on it. That was it, the horn that started this battle. Slowly the two regiments, 13 humans and 30 elves, marched forwards, trough the mud and rain into the dark forest. They marched long, too long for Vomyr's sake. He was getting angrier every time he pulled his greave out of the mud. His armour was soaking wet, water pouring out of every opening, making it top heavy. He peered at his men. They seemed to be in a better shape than him, still marching with their chest raised, ready for anything. And then the elves... naah, he didn't even want to look at them. This is the last bloody time, I swear by the gods. His muttering got interrupted, when the elven regiment suddenly stopped marching.  
The elven regiment leader, a hunter so it seemed, raised his hand slowly. _Hu-fecking-rah, the long ears found the action._ Vomyr stared at the elf, waiting for a sign. Then he suddenly noticed the look at the elf's face. The elf heard something alright, but whatever the hell it was, it was far from good. His eyes were spread wide open and his raised hand started to tremble. Normally, this would've amused Vomyr. A scared elf, hah! But not this time. You see, Vomyr had never seen this elf scared. Carefully, without making a sound, he gestured his men to draw their swords. The elf, now slowly getting his original colour back, turned his head towards Vomyr. He started shaking his head, mouthing 'no'. Vomyr frowned. _Bloody elf... what in the nether is going on?!_ He gestured his men to keep their swords put. Silence followed. Every single soldier of both regiments was listening to the forests. Even the birds were quiet, as Vomyr noticed too now. ...Then it started.

Everywhere around them sounded the sound of cracking branches. Footsteps in the dark, moving through the forest. So quiet. Unnaturally quiet. But with this silence easy to be heard. Vomyr closed his eyes and focussed on his hearing. It wasn't as great as the elven, but he could make a guess of how many there were out there. 40... 50... His eyes started to widen too know. The bloody elf had a damned good reason to be afraid. They spotted an army... but did the army spot them? The men got nervous because of their regiment leader, but most of all because of the elf. The first scared elf they had ever seen and that mend something. One of them started to panic, and moved his hand towards his sword. An elven priestess, Zetox, quickly turned herself towards the panicked soldier and pointing her finger at him, mouthing a spell. A purple flash struck the soldiers head before he could touch his sword. Without a sound, his limb body collapsed like a rag doll. The other soldiers stepped back looked at Zetox in shock of their fallen comrade. Zetox, now with a apologizing expression, shrugged at her regiment leader, who sighed and closed his eyes. Again there was silence. But not for long. A low laughter broke the long period of silence. Vomyr slowly turned around, laughing silently, eyeing the dead human up and down. Then he turned his look at Zetox, with a wicked grin on his face.  
"That, missy... was a mistake." he hissed.  
The wicked grin changed into a enraged glare while he pulled out his sword. The sound of the scraping metal rushed trough the woods, making even Vomyr realising what he did. He closed his eyes and sighed, just like the elven regimentleader. "No honey" Zetox sighed at Vomyr, realising their cover of silence was broken anyway, "THAT was a mistake."  
The silence that followed reveiled their fear. The noises of the moving army had stopped. Just some heavy breathing could be heard.

The elven leader opened his eyes again, and took a deep breath. "RETREAT!!" He yelled. Out of the forest appeared a wave of arrows, piercing everything on their path. The flanks of both regiments just collapsed into the ground, taking out half of the alliance forces. Vomyr forgot his fury and dropped his sword. The time around him seemed to stop. He peered around, over viewing the mayhem. _I'm fecked_. Every single men on the right side of his regiment was pierced with at least 5 arrows. Dead. _We're fecked_. The elves were facing casualties too. The regiment leader was already down on his knees, his back pierced by several arrows, his face turned at the sky. _Safe travels, brave man_.  
Slowly the world started to move again. The volume of the screaming men and the murdering arrow's took over his mind. Without hesitation, he bursted a flash of light into one of the fallen soldiers, making him get to his feet again in a golden fountain of light. He kneeled down and grabbed his sword again, using it to reflect an incoming arrow. Out of the forest appeared an army of orcs, trolls, tauren and undead, rushing into the ambushed alliance patrol. Vomyr grinned and prepared to meet the barbaric horde army. But then he noticed the rest of his regiment. One of the privates just dropped his weapons in fear, before disappearing entirely under the hammer of a Tauren with a loud cracking sound. Another one of the surviving humans got penetrated by two daggers of a shady figure, suddenly appearing behind him. Vomyr spoke another prayer, filling the mortally wounded soldier with light, making him able to turn around. With a powerful roar he decapitated the undead Rogue, which was caught in surprise. The soldier was himself was surprised too, smiling enthousiastic at Vomyr. But before Vomyr could smile back, the kid soldier turned into a screaming fireball, dropping himself on his knees. The rest of his regiment didn't suffered a much better fate. Vomyr desperately turned around, to check on the elves.  
They followed their leader's last orders. After the healers resurrected some of their fallen brothers, they turned around and ran, ran for Astranaar. One of them was Zetox, yelling at Vomyr. Vomyr didn't hear her voice, but her lips clearly said her words. Retreat. Vomyr answered her last desperate cry with a raised eyebrow, after which she turned around to follow the rest of the fleeing elves.

Vomyr was stunned. _They left us... they ran away_. Some of the fleeing elves got caught by arrows or hidden horde, getting slaughtered in their desperate attempt to reach safety. Vomyr grinned wickedly again. _Elves... cowardly dogs... Humans don't run from a nice fight! We fight!_ Cackling maniacally, Vomyr turned around. In front of him stood an entire army of confused Horde, eyeing the lonely human up and down. "Well mates, although I really appreciate your presence, I don't have all day you know..." Laughing about his own joke, the horde seemed to notice the human was mocking them. Some heavily armoured warriors rushed forward. Vomyr's laughter stopped when he suddenly closed his eyes and whispered some holy words. The ground around him started glowing, setting the charging warriors on fire. As they tried to get out of the consecrated area, they felt on the floor one by one, dead.  
Some of the Horde laughed at the pathetic performance of the fallen warriors. One troll wasn't amused though, as he bursted out in rage, hurling a huge fire ball at the paladin. A small explosion followed. The Horde peered curiously into the smoke, hoping to catch a glimpse of a piece of fried paladin. But as the smoke disappeared, the untouched Vomyr became visible. Protected by a holy shield, he waved at the mage, smirking. The annoyed mage snarled, glaring at his Horde comrades, who were laughing at him. Frustrated he started to charge another fireball. But a huge tauren interrupted him, pushing his arms down. With a confused look on his face, the troll stopped the casting, obeying his commander. The tauren commander calmly stepped forward towards the shielded paladin, took his enormous sword of his back and waited. _Blast, a smart one._ Slowly the shield faded. Vomyr looked up to the huge tauren and blinked innocently.  
"I guess we can talk about this like civilised gentlemen, eh?" He stumbled nervously.  
The tauren placed his left hand upon Vomyr's little shoulder. Then he nodded at Vomyr, smiling warmly. Vomyr smiled back, but his smile disappeared quickly. Gasping for air, he tried push the tauren away from him. With big scared eyes, Vomyr stared at the place where the sword tip that just entered his chest. With tears running over his cheeks, the dying paladin stomped the tauren desperately. the stomping slowly came to an end. The tauren sighed. While whispering something in Taurahe, he slowly pushed his blade further through Vomyr's chest. As the hilt reached the Lightforge chest plate, the tauren pulled the blade out again.

Vomyr fell on his knees. He had been through this before, he recognized it. But the sudden burst of strength, the golden light, it was missing. He couldn't heal his own wounds. Panic. _This can't be happening!_ But it was and there was nothing he could do about it. His back touched the ground now. He gazed the mud splashing up. He gazed at the sky. Raindrops landed on his face. Everything started to slow down. So bright. So beautiful. The panic was gone. The pain was gone. He started to feel tired.  
_So this is it_. He smiled. The rain clouds above him broke open, revealing the sun. The forest around him turned bright green, raindrops turning into diamonds. He smiled at the spirits of his fallen regiment, which left their bodies, and slowly disappeared in the bright sunlight. This was what he was waiting for. Destiny. The clouds came closer, the sun grew bigger. He closed his eyes.


End file.
